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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28364541">Worth more than Mithril</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyMeetingYouHere/pseuds/FancyMeetingYouHere'>FancyMeetingYouHere</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Hobbit - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>...but we're all good now, Bilbo is a good Hobbit, Durin Family Feels, Kíli and Fíli brotherly feels, Semi Fix-It, Thorin loves his nephews, he just got temporarily side-tracked, set in BotFA</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:41:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,001</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28364541</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyMeetingYouHere/pseuds/FancyMeetingYouHere</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo does not keep the Mithril that Thorin gifts him. He gives it to the one who he believes was supposed to have it all along.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bilbo Baggins &amp; Thorin Oakenshield, Fíli &amp; Kíli (Tolkien)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Worth more than Mithril</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first dabble into this fandom and I do apologize to everyone thinking this is a story for a completely different fandom ... my apologies. I rewatch The Hobbit trilogy every Christmas and it kills me every time, so, here we are, because I've finally cracked and done it. I wrote a small fix-it fic. This is based on the movies, just to keep the storylines right in my own head. I seriously hope I'm not butchering these characters, but please let me know if I do.</p><p>If you can, let me know what you think in general!<br/>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Erebor is solemn in the evening. The elves and men have made camp in the ruins of Dale, their torches flickering as constant reminders in the night sky. Tomorrow, Bilbo realizes with a sinking heart, will be a day of possible bloodshed, a day of fruitless fighting that both sides are much too stubborn and honor-bound to steer clear of. Which is where Bilbo's gamble comes in. He already has the rope ready to try and play his only hand, to give his best at calling off this damned war that he knows Thorin does not want either. It is the sickness that is causing this, nothing more. Bilbo knows this as surely as he knows his feet to have ten toes. Thorin must be saved from this madness that devours him, and Bilbo will do what he can to help his friend fight his way back.</p><p>But.</p><p>He stares at the lights with a heavy heart, then hurries down the crude stairway as he hears boots thud on the stone floor. He was there when the dwarves discussed patrols and guards and knows precisely who is coming to check the gate, though he's a little befuddled about only hearing one set of feet. His own steps barely make a sound as he makes his way down and Fíli appears startled when Bilbo pops up from behind a boulder that was possibly once a leg from any number of demolished statues. The dwarf huffs out a breath, hand coming back down from where he'd reached for his sword. "There is no more need for sneaking, Bilbo." He gives a small grin, though Bilbo notes his eyes stay as haunted as they became when he first saw his uncle's state.</p><p>"Apologies," Bilbo gives him an empty smile in return, shuffling in place and craning his head. "Where's Kíli?"</p><p>Fíli shrugs, looking behind as well, then letting out a large breath as he turns back. His shoulders sag for a moment and then he's back to looking strong and battle ready. "He's with Oín. There was some trouble with the bandages-" his breath stutters and Bilbo is tempted to pat his shoulder, or possibly his head. Bilbo's resolve only hardens when he witnesses the terror flash across Fíli's face as he no doubt remembers something from what happened in Lake town concerning Kíli's wound. They never explained fully, but the brief story they gave before Thorin ordered them all to search for the Arkenstone had been enough to make even Dwalin give Kíli and Fíli an extra hug.</p><p>They may be warriors, but it's more apparent than ever that, at the core of it all, they are brothers first and foremost.</p><p>Fíli blinks himself out of his thoughts and clears his throat, crossing his arms. "It's just a precaution for tomorrow." Then his eyes land on the object on Bilbo's hand. "Shouldn't you be doing the same?" He gives a questioning look, nodding at the mithril shirt.</p><p>Bilbo starts. "Ah, yes." He holds up the shirt, silently pleased Fíli noticed. Not that he had expected anything else. This time his smile is sincere. "It's for you," he explains, watching Fíli go from confused to shocked. Bilbo holds it closer to the young dwarf. "Take it."</p><p>The young prince stares stonily at Bilbo, then at the mithril in his hands. Bilbo is tempted to simply throw it on him, shifting his feet in the layer of dust and rubble coating every hall from this accursed place.</p><p>"Take it," he repeats, pushing the mithril closer to Fíli. "It was always meant to be yours."</p><p>Here Fíli frowns and takes a step back. His braids swing as he gives a slow shake of his head. "Thorin gifted it to you. Not me."</p><p>Bilbo almost snaps at him when he spots the stubborn set of Fíli's brows. Confound these dwarves and their eternal loyalty! "Fíli," he starts in the calmest manner he can, which ends with him pressing the mithril to Fíli's chest as if he can meld it to his skin. "This is meant to protect those in <em>battle. </em>I am a <em>hobbit.</em> Your uncle gave this to me, yes, but Thorin is-"he refrains from saying 'crazy' when Fíli's expression becomes a mix between protective and worried- "under a great deal of stress. He will understand that, as I have no practical use for it and a battle seems imminent, it will serve you much better than me."</p><p>Fíli is no longer moving back, but he also isn't taking it. He broods, eyes on Bilbo and the hallway as he blinks in thought. Bilbo bites his tongue so as not to speak any ill of Thorin's mental state at the moment, namely that Bilbo fears for the lives of Thorin's kin with the way his friend is acting. The dwarf gave the mithril to Bilbo, but he can't help but think this action was driven by the gold-sickness that is making Thorin wary of his most loyal friends. Not to mention his nephews. If his friend had been in possession of his wits, Bilbo is certain Thorin would have never given him the mithril, that the king would have realized there is someone far more valuable and in much more danger. Bilbo tries for a comforting smile when Fíli's hands inch up to grasp the shirt, his face still in a frown. The lad may be a warrior who's lived longer than Bilbo, but the heir and his little brother are still much too young in Bilbo's eyes to be dealing with dragons and wars and gold-sickness. Especially one such as Fíli who, Bilbo has no doubt, would sooner use his body as a shield than let any harm come to his kin. No matter their current mental state.</p><p>His thoughts are proven when Fíli shoots him an open look, one fraught with worry and doubt. "What about Kíli?" His own words visibly jar him. "If you must give it to anyone, give it to him! He is still recovering from-"</p><p>"Fíli," Bilbo cuts him of, stern. "I am giving it to you." He gives him a long, hard look, willing the younger to understand that, being the middle ground between his mad uncle and head-strong younger brother, <em>and</em> being the heir, Fíli is always at the front of any fight. The younger looks torn and Bilbo sighs, softening his tone. "I would like to think, that after our journey here, I have come to know you all as friends." He receives a hesitant nod, as if Fíli is unsure where he's going.</p><p>Bilbo sighs. "And I would think, that if any battle came to pass, you will be by Kíli's side through it all." This time the nod is fast enough it seems ingrained and Fíli gives him a strange look, as if not quite believing how Bilbo could even suggest anything different.</p><p>"Well then," Bilbo smiles wryly, his heart wrenching at the clear devotion that sums up Fíli. "As I am sure you would die before letting any harm befall your brother, I think it makes sense that you take this."</p><p>He holds the mithril higher, letting the distant fires from the gate-way catch on the expertly woven garment. It lights up Fíli's blue eyes, adding an element of innocent wonder to his gaze as he hesitantly reaches out. His eyes flick to Bilbo once more when Fíli finally holds the garment, this time conveying puzzlement.</p><p>"I don't understand." Fíli looks at him like he's trying to find his core. Though the Arkenstone burns in Bilbo's pocket, he lets the young dwarf examine him, then gives a quick smile when Fíli brings his eyes back to the mithril and rubs it carefully between his fingers.</p><p>"As I said, I have no use for it. But you might."</p><p>Fíli's eyes shoot up again, surprised at the sudden heavy tone of Bilbo's voice. The hobbit does his best to convey with a look what this lad should have known from the start, then decides to give a tiny hint. "Not all treasures worth protecting are made of gold." He smiles at Fíli's frown and pushes his hands in his pockets, if only to have something to do before Fíli notices how badly they are shaking. "I may only be a hobbit, but I have learned a thing or two about treasures from you lot. From your uncle."</p><p>
  <em>The real Thorin.</em>
</p><p>He holds Fíli's gaze. "Promise me you'll wear it."</p><p>It takes many seconds before Fíli nods, his braids swinging and beads clicking together. It's loud in the domed archway, but comforting enough that Bilbo lets out a small breath.</p><p>"Well then," he smiles, "I suppose I'll go find my bed-roll."</p><p>He leaves, feeling Fíli's heavy gaze follow him until he's slipped around the corner. Counting to ten, he tiptoes back and glances around the cold stone to see Fíli still standing where he left him, the golden-haired dwarf contemplating the mithril in his hands for a long moment. Then his head snaps up and he scans the hallway. Bilbo ducks out of sight, heart hammering. When there's no sound of boots on stone, he chances another glance only to see Fíli struggling out of his coat and shirts, slipping the mithril over his head, and then yanking all his layers back on. The heavy stone lying on Bilbo's heart becomes just a little lighter as Fíli marches up to the gate as if nothing happened, checks the surroundings, and then stomps back down. It's impossible to see the hidden layer of protection underneath his clothes, and Bilbo smiles to himself as he finally slips away.</p><p>That's plan B in place. Now to hope it'll never get that far and plan A will do just fine. But for that, he needs to pretend to go to sleep.</p><p>After all, he has an elven king to visit.</p><p> </p><p>x</p><p> </p><p>Plan A does not, in fact, turn out the way Bilbo had hoped. It even goes so awry as to almost result in his own death by the hands of Thorin had it not been for the other dwarves' timely intervention and Gandalf's presence. After that, things only go from bad to worse to absolutely horrifying to <em>oh my god</em> is that a giant troll ramming into the city walls!?</p><p>For less than a second, when Bilbo is surrounded by fleeing people, the air saturated with the screams of the dying and the blood of the dead, Bilbo wishes he had kept the mithril. But then he remembers the little treasure in his pocket. He stumbles into a tiny alcove, Sting trembling in his hands and eyes darting at the sight of orcs streaming into the city. Sliding his hand into his pocket he remembers he doesn't need mithril, not like Fíli no doubt does, and manages to steel his nerves enough to run back out and stick his beloved sword into another orc.</p><p>Later, that same strength makes him look at Gandalf when he hears of the danger to Thorin, Dwalin, Fíli and Kíli and boldly state. "I'll go."</p><p>It's not a request and, despite Gandalf's protest, Bilbo quickly scurries off to find cover and slip the golden band over his finger. Immediately, the world goes fuzzy and grey. Creatures of dark and light clash in this drunken landscape of shadows and mist. </p><p>
  <em>Ravenhill</em>
</p><p>Bilbo sets his mind to it, heart hammering as he scrambles under and around dozens of individual fights to get to the best friends he's ever had. To save them. He ignores everything else, becomes the light-footed thief he vehemently denied to be at his smial so as to get to Ravenhill before his fears can become real. He tastes bile and smells blood as he scrambles up the snow-covered rocks and eventually steps, breathing heavily and hoping, praying, that he'll be on time.</p><p>Mithril is no cure-all and will not hold against an army of orcs.</p><p>As he struggles up to the edge, his heart both jumps and freezes as he spots two blessedly familiar dwarfs, but only two.</p><p>Bilbo slips off the ring as he steps out of the doorway, rushing up with both hesitance and urgency. He pushes away his fear and apprehension and focuses only on the image of his friend standing in the path of unknown danger "Thorin!"</p><p>The dwarf spins in place, eyes wide, then lets his sword sag. "Bilbo?"</p><p>Bilbo doesn't check to see if he's still mad or not, doesn't believe it will help him to know if Thorin still wishes him dead. "You have to leave now," he warns them. He runs up and gazes out over the frozen lake, trying to find the golden and black that always go together. His heart hammers ever faster as he doesn't find it. His hands turn cold.</p><p>
  <em>Where are they?</em>
</p><p>He tells Thorin what he knows, keeping half an eye on their surroundings, only the ensuing squabble between Dwalin and Thorin affirms his greatest fear. Fíli and Kíli were sent ahead, either to kill Azog or do something else <em>stupid</em>, but before Bilbo can let the anger burst, before he can full well work himself into another rant like up on the gate, his tongue stills as Thorin orders their retreat.</p><p>As Thorin puts the safety of his nephews above killing Azog.</p><p>As Bilbo stares mutedly, a tiny sliver of hope blooming in his chest as he finally looks at his friend and recognizes the strong shoulders that do not bear a single cloak or embellishment.</p><p>Thorin gazes up at the tower, whispering glorious words. "We'll live to fight another day." He turns to nod at Bilbo with a careful expression.</p><p>Having too many words and not enough time to say them all, Bilbo only finds himself nodding back, a certain fire swelling in his belly at seeing his friend, at seeing Thorin Oakenshield, stronger than ever before. And just for a moment, Bilbo thinks they'll make it. Just for a fleeting, glimmering moment, he can almost see Dwalin get the brothers to safety as they retreat to fight with Daín's army. It's a moment of warmth and strength as Bilbo makes to follow Thorin down the steps leading away from Ravenhill.</p><p>And then the drums start.</p><p>Thorin freezes. Bilbo does too. They turn as one, Ravenhill looming in the mist as those pounding predictions of doom echo around them. Bilbo feels cold down to his toes which has nothing to do with the ice surrounding them. His eyes scour the tower, heart hammering and palms sweating as he wishes and prays and <em>please, boys, get back here.</em></p><p>Only it's too late. He was too late.</p><p>Thorin's agonized gasp is enough to know, though Bilbo's eyes betray him by focusing on the shadows that emerge from the mist at the top of the tower. </p><p>Azog snarls in Black Speech, his words dripping with disdain, but all Bilbo sees is the gold Azog holds in his filthy fist. The gold Bilbo so desperately tried to protect.</p><p>Bilbo shakes his head, tries to deny reality as he follows Thorin up the steps to a platform. Fíli hangs, helpless, in the hands of a monster. Bilbo thinks he might cry out, then possibly throw up, but the sudden cry from Fíli has him worried about his knees buckling.</p><p><em>I told you so!</em> He screams in his own head as Fíli repeats his cry at them to run. Because Fíli - brave, selfless Fíli - will always protect others before himself. Bilbo realizes then, as he hears Thorin choke on something too painful to name, as he watches Azog thrust the abomination of his arm into Fíli's back, that he should have tried harder. He should have done more. Mithril wasn't enough, it was never enough, because Azog revels in their agony, bathes in their despair and <em>let's go.</em></p><p>Fíli falls.</p><p>Bilbo thinks he stumbles and he doesn't hear Fíli hit the ground. But when he blinks, there's a clear blemish on the white ice at the foot of the tower. </p><p>Guilt swarms him and grief follows right after. Fíli <em>fell.</em></p><p>Beside him, Thorin bellows Kíli's name as he jumps onto the frozen river and begins a slippery sprint to the other side. Dwalin follows with pain and fear in his voice. After too much hollow staring Bilbo recognizes a second figure racing up the tower's step. The black to Fíli's gold.</p><p>Kíli's enraged bellow splashes across the desolate landscape, searing into Bilbo's thoughts and he chokes back a sob. He draws his sword more out of confusion than any reason. He's on a battle field. Fíli just <em>died</em> despite every effort to the contrary. The world feels like a dream and he stumbles in his steps. It can't be real. Only he's not allowed to sort his thoughts, to think beyond his desperate pleas of 'but I gave him mithril!' as the war does not stop on account of his grief.</p><p>The giant bats come first, then the promised second army. </p><p>Dwalin returns and smashes skull after skull in an enraged fit, no doubt using his anger and grief as fuel for his axe-swinging. Bilbo tries to do the same, tries to think past Fíli falling and Kíli screaming and Thorin running into what he had named a trap. Bilbo tries, and for a moment he succeeds. </p><p>Then there's a lapse in his concentration, a second where the grief and pain break through, and Bilbo can't duck fast enough.</p><p>The pain spikes in his head, then gobbles him up. </p><p>All is dark.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The darkened corridors snaking through the underbelly of Ravenhill are cold and deserted. Kíli makes quick work of them, no matter the burn of his injured leg. There's nothing but cobwebs and ill-placed patches of ice that almost make him fall a number of times. Every time he slips he expects a steadying hand from Fíli, maybe even an amused huff at Kíli's clumsiness, but then reminds himself sternly that there is no warmth watching his back. Fíli has his own orders, his own part to play, and Kíli feels a thrill when he realizes he checked everything there is to check under Fíli's orders. He is playing his part too, as Fíli's right hand, and finally managing to do so without inadvertently causing more trouble for the company. Like getting dragged off by a spider. Or getting shot by a poisoned arrow. But there's no place for victory here, not with the stench of orc in the air and the knowledge of a war raging just over the hill. If there's nothing down here, he imagines Fíli's scouting session turned up an equal amount of zilch, meaning Kíli quickly makes his way back to the way they came in. It's where they meet when they split up.</p><p>If they split up.</p><p>The light glistening on the snow and ice blinds him for a moment, but then he shuffles forward and squints. There are three figures standing on the platform just on the other side of the lake. With a sinking feeling Kíli wonders if Fíli was done quicker and already raced back to inform their uncle, knowing Kíli would take much longer with his wound, only then the figures become clearer and their hobbit stands nervously next to Thorin.</p><p>Kíli frowns even more, checking the hallway behind him but not yet hearing or seeing anything from Fíli. He turns back to stare at Bilbo. How did he get up-?</p><p>Drums from above shut down any and all thought beyond an instant fight or flight. He presses himself against the wall, taking most of his weight on his good leg should he need to spring into action and holding his sword out. With held breath and a thundering heart, he listens for any footsteps. Instead, the muffled sounds of Black Speech drip from above. The foul language sends a shiver down his spine and he inches closer to the exit. It only takes a glance to know something is indeed happening up on the tower. Thorin, Dwalin and Bilbo are all staring up, though Kíli can't quite make out their expressions. With another check to see nothing is about to jump out at him, Kíli steps into the alcove and shuffles out, trying to stay under cover of the tower as much he can, but also trying to see if there's something he should be worried about. He squints up in the light, craning his head to see past the stone, but nothing helps. The tower is too broad at the bottom and too narrow at the top. He'd have to step out completely to see what's going on, and that would be a tremendously bad idea if whoever is at the top happened to have an archer handy, or <em>be</em> an archer.</p><p>Only then another voice mingles with the black speech. This time Kíli doesn't need to look to know who it is. He's heard his own name called in that exact tone of desperation enough times to pick it out of a crowd.</p><p>
  <em>Fíli.</em>
</p><p>Thoughts seize to a sputtering stop in his head, a numbness spreading through his limbs.</p><p>His brother is calling out to the others to 'run'. Kíli knows Thorin won't, if only because he feels the sudden fearful fire burn in his own chest. Why didn't he think of Fíli when the drums first started! Why didn't he realize his brother's absence was a sign of danger!</p><p>The answer makes him swallow past a dry throat as Fíli screams again.</p><p>Because Fíli is always fine. Because Fíli is always the one getting Kíli out of trouble, not the other way around. If anyone was going to run into orcs in these damn ruins, it was going to be Kíli.</p><p>Only this time, it wasn't.</p><p>He's still busy being angry at himself, already has one foot out to start running because if it's Fíli, if it's his <em>brother</em> up there in the hands of Azog, then archers are no longer of any concern, when the impossible happens.</p><p>A body drops right at his feet.</p><p>There was no cry of pain, no outraged bellow from his uncle, which is why Kíli needs a second to realize he's staring at the blond hair of his own brother.</p><p>Fíli is on his back, eyes closed and limbs splayed out. The tower is silent. Everything is silent. The moment is fragile and impossible until reality rushes up at him in a tidal wave. It sinks deep into his bones, ice spreading and clawing at his skin until all he can do is yell to stave off the worst grief he's felt in all his life. Anger is the better option. Anger burns hotter than despair and fuels his steps up into the fortress, strengthens his swing as he slices through every orc he sees in a blind rage. It does not matter who they are, nor who threw Fíli off. All that matters is killing every single one, slicing and running and fighting to deny the tears that burn his throat even a second of his time. Kíli knows that once he lets it in, the pain will consume him.</p><p>But not now, not yet.</p><p>He decapitates one orc, guts another, then runs higher and higher.</p><p>
  <em>Not yet.</em>
</p><p>It burns in his chest, burns hotter and brighter than any orc poison as he flings himself into the war with everything he has. Anything to stave off the knowledge that Fíli's dead.</p><p>
  <em>My brother is dead.</em>
</p><p>"Kíli!"</p><p>The familiar voice draws him in, makes him look even as he fights off another foul creature. Tauriel stands two levels down. Bolg stands before her, carrying a sneer and a sword.</p><p>The terror is almost physical, shooting through Kíli as he shouts out. "Tauriel!"</p><p>
  <em>Fíli is dead.</em>
</p><p>He throws himself back down with reckless abandon, heart hammering and fear burrowing in as he watches Bolg throw Tauriel into a wall. </p><p>
  <em>Fíli fell.</em>
</p><p>He runs and races and yells a battle cry with no plan in his mind. There's nothing but Fíli's body falling at his feet and the numbing fear of Tauriel following the same fate. He has no more ideas, no more schemes, nothing but pure anger and desperation as he jumps on Bolg's back. The creature is cold and nothing but hard edges as he clings on. Killing this thing won't make him feel better, won't bring back mischievous laughter and the warmth at his back, but it will stave off more pain, more heart-break.</p><p>Kíli thinks he might just burn down the world if only to never feel like this again.</p><p>Except reckless abandon doesn't win from tactics and strength. Not this time.</p><p>Kíli loses his sword. Bolg pins him.</p><p>Tauriel calls for him and his eyes find her. She looks terrified, but Kíli isn't sure if he holds the same expression. He's scared for her, yes. He fears Bolg will kill her after he is done with him, but there's also another feeling. The part he's fighting, the pain and anguish he's hiding by slicing everything in his path is <em>glad.</em> Because all his life, Kíli has followed Fíli everywhere. They were one.</p><p>Why should death be any different?</p><p>He knows he shouldn't, keeps his eyes on Tauriel as he mourns the fear on her face and the chance he'll never have, but part of him gives in.</p><p>Gives up.</p><p>
  <em>Fíli is dead.</em>
</p><p>And Kíli will follow.</p><p>Except the blow never comes. Either Bolg is confused about where to stick the blade to ensure death, or...</p><p>Kíli chances a glance up, only to spot the tip of a blade peeking out of Bolg's chest. The orc makes a grunting sound, his eyes rolling back into his head and the mace he'd been wielding slips harmlessly from his fingers with a loud clatter. Bolg folds in on himself and takes Kíli down with him. The stone beneath him is cold and there's a sudden moment of quiet until Tauriel has a hand on his cheek, her eyes swimming but a fragile smile on her face.</p><p>"Are you well?" She whispers, kneeling in front of him.</p><p>Dazed, he stares up, his answer dying on his tongue because 'well' is not a word that can be used when his insides feel burnt and hollow. Fíli is dead and he cannot lie to her. Her face falls, worry taking over. She grips him tighter, eyes examining him. "Are you injured?" She speaks rushed. "Where is your wou-"</p><p>"Kíli!"</p><p>The voice shocks him like a blade to the side and he scrambles up, ripping his face from Tauriel's careful hands. With wild eyes he looks. Surely he's gone mad. Maybe he <em>did</em> die.</p><p>Fíli leans on the stones behind Bolg, his face white and breaths fast, but there's no mistaking the concern in his blue eyes.</p><p>Alive blue eyes.</p><p>"Fíli?" Kíli notes his voice wobbles but he doesn't care. He doesn't care about sounding small and weak or looking like a fool as he stumbles to his feet and closes the distance on unsteady legs. Fíli looks just as eager to have him close than Kíli does. Though he doubts the older could feel the same burning terror, the encompassing horror that not grabbing hold <em>right now</em> would mean losing Fíli forever.</p><p>So, he does.</p><p>"You're alive," Kíli breaths into Fíli's shoulder, pulling the older into a hug that's possibly leaning toward painful. "Oh Mahal, you're alive!"</p><p>Fíli grunts, his arms coming up to hold Kíli. The older smells like sweat and blood, his breaths ragged and frame shaking but he's <em>alive.</em> Kíli feels like laughing, but is afraid all that will come out are the sobs that scrape at his throat. "You fell," he whispers, fearful this is all some dream or hallucination. He buries his nose in Fíli's hair, uncaring that it tickles or that it hasn't been washed in days. It's not like his state is any better.</p><p>"I have a hard head, brother," Fíli tells him, breathless, then his tone goes urgent. "Why didn't you fight him?"</p><p>Kíli pulls back though he keeps hands on Fíli's shoulders. The other seems just as reluctant to let go and Kíli can only stare. He knows what Fíli means, knows that if anyone was going to notice how he simply gave up with Bolg, it would be his brother. But just a minute ago he hadn't thought he'd ever hear Fíli's voice again, let alone his penchant for nagging at the worst possible times.</p><p>There's a war going on but Kíli doesn't care. He leans forward, touching Fíli's forehead with his own as he slides his eyes closed on the few tears that escape. His grip on Fíli must be painful, but his brother doesn't mention it.</p><p>"You fell," he answers, an echo of pain in his voice. "You fell right at my feet."</p><p>Fíli makes a pained sound. One hand grabs the back of Kíli's head. "I'm here," he promises, slightly croaky. "I'm here, Kíli."</p><p>Which, Kíli realizes as he pulls back and new strength hums beneath his fingertips, is all he needed. Fíli still leans on the stone, his left leg either bruised or broken from the fall and his hair matted with blood at the back, but he stands. He speaks and breaths and is solid under Kíli's hands. And that's all he needs. His mind quiets and, though the panic from before lingers behind every thought, he can push it away. He pulls back.</p><p>"We must find uncle and Dwalin," he tells his brother, a plan finally beginning to form now that the haze of grief is retreating. Not gone, but farther back.</p><p>Fíli's expression hardens and he straightens as much as he can. "I can walk. You're not leaving me-"</p><p>"Of course not," Kíli bristles, curbing the urge to hit his already injured brother. "You're coming whether I have to carry you myself, you hear." He shakes a confused Fíli's shoulder. "We're not splitting up again. You saw how well that went the first time."</p><p>Fíli huffs, though his eyes say he means no harm.</p><p>Tauriel, who'd been keeping a distance <em>Mahal bless her</em>, finally steps up, Kíli's sword in hand. "If you'll let me," she addresses them both, "I will fight with you."</p><p>Fíli looks much too hilariously shocked to answer so Kíli turns to her and accepts his sword. He almost wishes he could kiss her but decides his brother might actually punch him then. They've already tarried enough and, hopefully, there will be time after this fight to get around to more pleasant things. Fíli is not dead and Kíli is not dead and Tauriel is not dead either. Now they just need to make sure Thorin joins their little club and Kíli thinks he might start breathing again.</p><p>"I'll look ahead," he tells Tauriel, already grabbing for his brother. "Will you guard our backs?"</p><p>She seems surprised but nods quickly, a hint of a smile on her face which quickly becomes determined. Fíli grunts as he slings one arm over Kíli's shoulders and they fall into a rhythm going down. At every corner, Kíli's heart rate spikes, but the tower truly seems empty this time.</p><p>"So now she's guarding our backs," Fíli mutters when they're almost down. "What exactly are you playing at, brother?"</p><p>Kíli knows his ears burn but luckily his brother is much too busy with walking to see it. "I trust her," he eventually answers, hoping Tauriel can hear. He can't look back to check.</p><p>Fíli lets out a sigh, his voice so quiet it's almost nothing more than a breath. "I guess I will too, then."</p><p>Because Fíli apparently trusts Kíli enough to set aside his deep mistrust for elves to utter even that much and Kíli almost preens, but curbs it at the last moment when they find themselves back on the ice. Fíli pulls back a little, head rising to squint at their surroundings. There's an eerie quiet in the air. Kíli gulps. "Maybe they went-"</p><p>"There," Tauriel steps forward, her arm pointing at a black smudge in the distance. Her voice goes alarmed. "Azog has Thorin pinned! His blade is close to-" She flies into a sprint over the ice without finishing her sentence. Kíli is desperate to follow, but his leg and Fíli's injuries would never allow it. They're stuck on the sidelines, moving in fast steps as they cry out at the same time.</p><p>"Uncle!"</p><p>"Thorin!"</p><p>"Go!" Fíli pushes at him, but Kíli keeps his grip firm. "Kíli, leave me and go!"</p><p>"What did I tell you!" He snarls back, eyes intent on the black dots in the distance that slowly reveal Azog hunched over their uncle, the orc's foul blade hovering right over Thorin's heart. Kíli pleads in his mind, steps hurried even as Fíli pushes him again.</p><p>"I am holding you back!" Fíli yells. "Now leave me and go!"</p><p>"You did not leave me alone in Laketown! I will not leave you alone now!"</p><p>There's so much more to that statement than Kíli can jam into a few seconds, but Fíli stops his struggles, perhaps because he gets it or maybe, more to the point, because Tauriel has reached Azog and their uncle.</p><p>The beast's enraged roar floats their way as he's forced to back away from Thorin to block Tauriel's blades.</p><p>"See," Kíli says shakily, still shuffling over the ice with a death grip on his brother. "They're fine. They can take him."</p><p>Never mind the fact that Azog is three times the size of their uncle and has killed too many dwarves to count in his quest to wipe out the line of Durin. Never mind that Tauriel is visibly favoring her right side from Bolg throwing her into a wall. Never mind the fact that Fíli is basically hanging off Kíli and neither of them have two functioning legs.</p><p>Never mind any of that, because Azog is in charge of the filth who threw Fíli off a tower. Azog killed their great-grandfather and possibly their grandfather as well. </p><p>And, as Kíli and Fíli near the battle, Azog turns and spots them.</p><p>The great beast bats Tauriel away, her boots slipping on the ice and she slides too far to the side to stop him. Thorin is behind the behemoth on his knees holding his bleeding arm, mouth open in a soundless scream. But all Kíli realizes is that he dragged Fíli with him without any means of protection, that if Azog charges, there is very little he can do in the way of defense. Not that he won't try.</p><p>Fíli shouts out a denial when Kíli pushes him behind him, his brother falling to his knees as his leg fails, but maybe that's better. That way, Kíli can hold his weapon with both hands and brace himself as Azog bellows and begins his run right at them. The pale orc sneers, his steps cracking the ice and Kíli keeps hoping it'll give. It never does. Off to the side, Tauriel yells his name, maybe Thorin too, but Kíli's thoughts are on nothing but the charging nightmare and pounding heartbeat in his ears.</p><p>
  <em>Five more steps.</em>
</p><p>Kíli breaths in.</p><p>
  <em>Four more steps.</em>
</p><p>He lets his own battle cry punch out of his lungs, eyes narrowed at Azog.</p><p>
  <em>Three more steps.</em>
</p><p>Golden hair blocks the nightmare. Strong arms wrap around his shoulders as Fíli's cry of his name breaks through the fog. Terror seizes Kíli's heart. His brother is shielding him with his body and a sudden mountain slams into them, throwing them back and the ice bites hard into Kíli's skull. Sound is replaced by ringing, black spots dancing across his vision. Somewhere, he loses the grip on his sword. When he blinks back into the world, his back is cold as the ice beneath him and Fíli lies on his chest. His brother's head rests on his shoulder, golden strands tickling his face.</p><p>Kíli almost screams. His mouth opens in wordless agony, but then Fíli coughs, his body stuttering with breaths.</p><p>
  <em>Alive.</em>
</p><p>For now.</p><p>"Kíli! Fíli!" Thorin sounds beside himself, voice piercing through the fog in Kíli's mind. Before he can answer, hands pluck Fíli from him and he shoots up, fearful to let his brother go.</p><p>What he finds makes him pause. Thorin is kneeling beside them, Fíli now in his arms as his uncle runs desperate hands over his older brother and Fíli bats them away, grunting out an 'I'm fine'. But there's more. Right in front of Kíli's feet, Azog the Defiler lies dead, Thorin's blade buried deep in his side and another, smaller blade stuck into his neck. Tauriel stands next to the orc, breaths harsh and eyes on Kíli, her hands empty.</p><p>"You killed him," Kíli breathes, "together."</p><p>Tauriel nods. "He was going to hurt you, both of you." Her eyes flick to Thorin and Fíli, expression becoming hesitant. "I could have sworn he did. His blade touched your brother, but..."</p><p>At that, all thoughts of victory flee Kíli's mind and he turns to his brother, yanking on his shoulder. "Did he hurt you!" He demands, dragging himself up to his knees and pulling Fíli's annoyed face into his hands, as if to make him speak the truth by proximity. "Are you hurt!? Where-"</p><p>Fíli actually rolls his eyes. "I am <em>fine."</em></p><p>"Do not lie," Thorin growls, though his words hold desperation as he examines Fíli with his eyes. "His blade went into your back, first at the top of the tower and again just now!" He turns to Tauriel. "Elf! Find a healer!"</p><p>Despite the degrading address, Thorin's voice lacks his usual venom when dealing with elves and Tauriel springs to her feet.</p><p>"Stay safe," she whispers at them all, though her eyes linger on Kíli. Then she's off. Kíli wants her to stay, but his uncle's words finally sink in and the thought evaporates, replaced by a much more frightening notion.</p><p>"The tower," he whispers, turning to Fíli who's hunched in on himself and glaring much like a child who is fighting his bedtime. Kíli feels brittle as he stares at his brother. "You were stabbed at the tower and you didn't tell me." Ice returns to his heart, the earlier panic surging up as he imagines hidden wounds and all their outcomes. "Where!" He yells, pulling at Fíli's clothes. Thorin looks like he wants to join in but his right arm hangs useless, blood coating the upper part, so Kíli makes up for it by being twice as tenacious as usual.</p><p>"Stop!" Fíli pushes at his hands but Kíli ignores it. If there's a wound, if there's even a <em>chance</em>-!</p><p>"Kíli, there is no wound!"</p><p>And maybe he's been yelling that all in Fíli's face but the dread is back, clawing at him and looming with a promise of being alone <em>forever</em>.</p><p>"Kíli!" Fíli clamps his warm hands around Kíli's face, forces him to look at those achingly familiar pools of blue. Fíli looks concerned, worried even, his eyes searching Kíli's face and his mouth in a grimace. His voice goes soft. "I am here, brother. You are not alone."</p><p>"How?" Thorin breaks the moment, sounding like he's barely holding on to his emotions by the skin of his teeth. "I know what I saw, Fíli. I know Azog- he- ..."</p><p>And if anything could have broken Kíli's precarious control, it would have been this. As one, the brothers turn to see Thorin kneeling on the ice with a lost look in his eyes, tears staining his cheeks and ten years added to the lines in his face. He stares at Fíli like he's a ghost. "I lost you," he whispers, broken. "I swear I did." His eyes slide to Kíli and being the center of attention of that crippled look puts an immovable lump in Kíli's throat. He feels frozen. "I swear I lost you," Thorin continues. "And yet, you're here. How? After everything I have done, how can I deserve such fortune?"</p><p>"Uncle," Kíli croaks, then finds himself at a loss for words. The tears that leak from his uncle's eyes call the flood he'd been holding back and within moments, all three of them are silently weeping. They're injured and broken, but together. They're alive.</p><p>"Does it matter?" Fíli finds the words, still sitting with one hand on Kíli's shoulder as the other reaches for his uncle's hand. Thorin grips it with shaking fingers. "We're here, uncle," Fíli promises them both with a surprisingly strong voice. His eyes find Kíli and he smiles amid the sweat and blood on his face. "All of us."</p><p>Which is even truer than Fíli had meant it, because a voice travels on the wind, breaking through the icy stillness around them to reveal Bilbo slipping his way over. "Thorin!" The hobbit shouts, sliding closer and suddenly gasping, doubling his pace as his voice shoots up in surprise. "Fíli! Kíli!"</p><p>"Bilbo," Thorin murmurs, turning to their friend with a careful look on his face. Perhaps even some hesitation. "Are you-?"</p><p>But Bilbo ignores him, falling to his knees next to Fíli and pulling the surprised prince into a strong hug. "Fíli," Bilbo breathes, ignoring Fíli's muffled protest. "You're alright." He goes alarmed, holding Fíli at an arm's length. "You are alright, aren't you? You were stabbed and then you fell and-"</p><p>"Stabbed!?" Kíli shouts at precisely the same moment, and precisely the same tone as Thorin. Bilbo blinks, shocked, as Fíli hangs his head with a groan.</p><p>"Well, yes," Bilbo answers a bit perturbed, frowning at Thorin. "You did see, didn't you?"</p><p>"For the last time!" Fíli shuts them all up, glaring at a confused Bilbo. "I am fine!"</p><p>"First Thorin says you were stabbed! And now Bilbo does too!" Kíli explodes, the doubt skittering over his skin like a pack of ants. "What happened, Fíli!"</p><p>"Fíli?" Their uncle pleads, making Fíli's eyes round and his expression something close to guilty. His brother's eyes shoot to Bilbo, then land on their uncle and finally come back to him. Kíli doesn't like the hesitance he sees.</p><p>His mouth goes dry. "Is something wrong?"</p><p>Fíli shakes his head but Kíli can't believe him, not when his brother looks so defeated all of a sudden. As if it costs ridiculous effort, Fíli plucks at his clothes, pulling at the collar until he unearths a very familiar material from underneath all his layers. It all clicks and Kíli sits stumped, gaping.</p><p>"Mithril," Thorin whispers. "But how..."</p><p>"Bilbo gave it to me," Fíli answers, then quickly back-tracks. "Only for today! It was a loan, uncle, I know you gifted it to him."</p><p>The hobbit in question looks between all three and makes a confused noise. "Well I certainly did intend for you to keep it," he mutters, then seemingly finds something on Thorin's face and Kíli spots the absolute frozen expression of his uncle. He gulps. He's torn between wanting to thank Bilbo within an inch of his life and shielding the hobbit from whatever is happening in his uncle's mind. The episode at the gate pops up in his thoughts and suddenly he realizes why Fíli was so hesitant to say anything. Mithril is not a simple gift, especially when offered by a king.</p><p>"Uncle," Fíli rasps, shooting his eyes from Bilbo to Thorin and back. "I swear I will return it."</p><p>Bilbo's face grows dark. "Thorin," he speaks in no uncertain tone at the still frozen dwarf. "I don't know what's going on in that head of yours but you gave it to me and <em>I </em>decided it was much better spent on Fíli. Given everything that's happened I'm sure you can find some way to see-"</p><p>They're all blind-sided by Thorin's sudden movement. He lunges for Bilbo and Kíli almost goes after him with an irrational thought of getting in between, but Thorin only grabs Bilbo tight and crushes him in a hug. The poor hobbit sits shocked, seemingly just as shocked as Kíli feels when Thorin weeps into Bilbo's waistcoat.</p><p>"Thank you," the King under the Mountain croaks into Bilbo's shoulder. "Thank you. Mahal, thank you."</p><p>Kíli looks at Fíli and sees his own incredulity reflected in Fíli's expression. Bilbo resurfaces his wits much quicker and carefully holds the crying king, falling into a soothing tone.</p><p>"It's alright, Thorin," he promises. "It will be alright."</p><p>"You saved him," Thorin gasps. He pulls back and holds Bilbo at arms-length, a painful expression of gratitude on his face. "After what I did-" he grimaces, swallowing the words.</p><p>Bilbo frowns. "Well I didn't just do it for you," he scolds lightly, but then his face falls into a smile and he pats Thorin's arm. "Though you were one of the reasons. After all, I'd be a pretty lousy burglar if I got you one treasure back, only to let you lose another, much more valuable one." His voice goes soft but stern at the same time. "I know that you'd have done the same. The real you, Thorin. The only Thorin that matters as far as I'm concerned."</p><p>Thorin's eyes close and it looks painful. His hands fall back to his lap and he shudders. "I do not deserve your kindness-"</p><p>"Nonsense," Bilbo interrupts him, giving him a hard stare. Thorin looks sufficiently shocked and Kíli almost giggles. Bilbo continues in the same tone of voice. "You are my friend and I knew you'd figure that out again, so there we are. No more of that 'deserving' nonsense. You deserve a great deal more than I could ever give you, though I do hope you'd settle for my friendship." His voice goes choked. "I would hate to lose that, after everything."</p><p>Thorin opens his mouth twice without a single sound, then puts his good hand on Bilbo's shoulder, a watery smile breaking through. "I would be honored to call you my friend. I know no finer dwarf, nor hobbit than you, Master Baggins. Humble and brave, you always continue to amaze me." His gaze goes wistful. "If only more people would value hearth and home above gold, the world would be a merrier place."</p><p>Bilbo splutters, his ears turning red.</p><p>"He's right," Kíli jumps in, drawing everyone's attention. Fíli looks surprised and his uncle subdued, though Bilbo's confused face is his main focus. Kíli gives him the biggest smile he can. "I can't think of anything to give you that will compare to what you gave me," his eyes shoot to Fíli and he swallows down that cold, terrible feeling. Bilbo looks concerned.  "But if you'll have it," Kíli continues in the most serious tone he can muster. "My friendship is yours, until the day Mahal welcomes me into his halls."</p><p>Fíli snorts softly, sitting heavily on the ice. "You don't need to swear an oath to be someone's friend, Kee," he chuckles.</p><p>Kíli can feel his ears go warm and he gives Fíli a half-hearted glare. "Thorin just did."</p><p>"Well, actually," Bilbo starts, then clicks his teeth together after Kíli shoots him a baleful look.</p><p>Thorin huffs out something that might be a laugh, but still sounds much too close to a sob. He runs a hand over his face, grimacing when he touches the wicked cut on his forehead. Bilbo immediately goes concerned again. "You're all injured," he says, hands wringing. "Oín is probably still fighting, but-"</p><p>"Look," Fíli murmurs, eyes turned to the sky behind Kíli. Thorin and Bilbo react first, their mouths dropping and the hobbit dredging up a real smile.</p><p>Kíli quickly turns as well and his jaw drops.</p><p>"The eagles," Fíli says. "The eagles are here."</p><p>Kíli can hardly believe his eyes, following the majestic birds as they become larger and larger against the backdrop of the sun. "Does that mean we're winning?" he dares to ask.</p><p>"You know what," Bilbo says in a wet voice, "I believe we might."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>(And they do.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, so, there's a whole thing in my head which all came from 'what if Bilbo gave the Mithril to Fíli' and this is how it starts. Fíli does give it back to Bilbo, because he's Fíli, and Bilbo does take is, because he's Bilbo, so Frodo will still get it from his uncle and NOT die in the mines of Moria. BUT, there's another thing. Because Kíli, in this fic, says that he doesn't know what to give Bilbo for saving his brother's life, but then our fav dwarf brothers are summoned to a very secret meeting some sixty-odd years after the quest for the Lonely Mountain and lo-and-behold, young Frodo Baggins offers to take the ring to Mount Doom and Fíli and Kíli wouldn't be Fíli and Kíli if they didn't immediately decide to go with him (even though Fíli was at first vehemently against the idea until he realized Frodo's last name is Baggins). And so, the Fellowship counts eleven, not nine, and Kíli repays Bilbo's kindness by keeping his nephew safe.<br/>...which honestly would be a whole story in and of itself which I would LOVE to read but have absolutely no time to write, so if anyone is inspired by this, feel free to get cracking, though I would hope you'd send me a link so I can read it. (Or, if this is a really common idea that's done a million times before and I simply suck at finding stories, please let me know where I should be going to read something like this. It sounds awesome in my head.)<br/>Anywho, that's it for me. Leave a comment if you can and have a splendid day!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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